Jen, no, it's not offensive (to me, anyway; YOMV). It's something I struggle with a lot. My understanding of the Episcopal church, which is admittedly paltry, is that they're more doctrinally ehn-maybe-this-is-literally-true-and-maybe-it's-just-a-beautiful-myth about some things that I actually do believe to be literally true (off the top of my head, transubstantiation and the Resurrection, but I think there may be more). And those beliefs are deep in me, and my participation in those rituals and remembrances and reenactments steadies me and keeps me rooted and I can't quite imagine being apart from that.
And part of it is that, dammit, I do believe I'm right and they're wrong, and I feel like if I leave I'm letting them define it; as long as I'm there, present and supporting my active and deeply community-rooted parish, the current Pope's truth about the Church isn't the entire truth.
Then there's the distance of Rome; the faith my mom taught me was always community-rooted. I love my parish; it's a cash-poor, struggling creature, but it's alive, it's active in the community.
Many of its members are activists not only because they march on the School of the Americas and are best buds with Martin Sheen and the Berrigans, but because they're feeding the hungry and clothing the naked of Berkeley year-round; standing at the gates of San Quentin at midnight on execution nights, praying for the murderer and the murdered and the survivors; walking local picket lines with grocery store clerks and the housekeeping staff at the Claremont Hotel; driving into skeevy neighborhoods on Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve to drop off goodie baskets; reading to the elderly, sitting by people's hospital beds, hosting AA and NA and AlAnon meetings; hosting venting sessions and forgiveness and reconciliation ceremonies for clerical abuse survivors.
They're such good people, and to me they are so much more the face of my faith than that old man in Rome could ever be. And I disagree fiercely with his stance on a woman's place in the world, on the value of her health and her sanity weighed against the fragile possible life in her womb, on birth control, condom use, and probably fifty other things, and I know what harm the Church's policies have done all over the world. And yet the people I actually know are doing concrete good here where I live, and bucking the establishment where they can (the pastor who blew his career by officially opposing Humana Vitae, the staff who stubbornly insist on using gender-inclusive language, the priest who sat in his study with me after my abortion and talked not about what a sinner I was, but about the difficulty of weighing a variety of bad choices in a deeply flawed world).
I love these people. They are Christ to me. I loathe much of what Rome does and I struggle with it constantly, but I can't imagine turning my back on this community.
t /Rambly McBabblePants